


coffee shops and first meetings

by bat_4u



Series: Nature-all Cafe and Related Stories [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bakery and Coffee Shop, F/M, Gen, Humans, Selkies, magical coffee shops, slice-of-life, the town is filled with magical creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28714788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bat_4u/pseuds/bat_4u
Summary: She supposed curiosity was well-deserved; to someone who hadn’t been there before, the coffee shop would certainly be interesting even if it hadn’t appeared out of nowhere. The scent of clean linen and coffee and pastries drifted lazily through the air. All in all, the ambience was homey and one of the most inviting in town, even if everyone was still a bit at a loss as to where the shop had come from in the first place.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Nature-all Cafe and Related Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104968
Kudos: 2





	coffee shops and first meetings

Her shift had started at 7. Now it was 8:30 and Rory could already feel herself melting into the floor out of boredom. For a summer morning, business had been unusually slow. When she had taken a job at the cafe that had appeared out of thin air three months ago and met the eccentric twin owners that had appeared with it, she had resigned herself to the unexplained and otherworldly things that went on there. She wished some of those things would happen now--why couldn’t the espresso machine glow green when she wasn’t trying to help a line of customers running out the door?

  
Only one customer, a regular named Briony Alders, sat in one of the overstuffed chairs in the corner, sipping out of a gold-detailed teacup and idly turning the pages of a book. She was a human like Rory, one of the few in Greenriver, and Rory welcomed the predictability that she brought to the shop--coming in at 8 a.m sharp every morning except Monday to order her usual Birch Mist tea. She would leave in 15 minutes to catch a ride to her office on Main Street. And then Rory would be left alone to fill the entire day with nothing but her own company, if the day continued the way it had begun.

  
Slumped over the counter and doodling on a stray receipt, Rory couldn’t help wishing that it wasn’t Rendara’s day off. While she was exceedingly unhelpful working at a coffee shop, the old queen could tell a story with the best of them, whether she was talking about the old myths or the ancient days of her rule. More importantly, her beauty tended to draw more customers and those were the days Rory pocketed more tips. At this rate she would never be able to pay back last semester’s textbook loans.

  
The bell over the door chimed for the second time that morning and Rory hurried to straighten and look semi-professional. Well, as professional as she could look wearing a cheesy apron that boasted "All-Nature-all Cafe" in garish red letters across the front. The owners of this place may have the secret to making amazing coffee, but they certainly didn’t understand fashion, or puns.

  
When she looked toward the door Rory expected to see one of the regulars, like Mrs. Patsy coming in for her Autumn Latte, or Henry Moor demanding his Golden Raspberry Cacao mix (stirred, not blended) as soon as possible. Instead, an unfamiliar boy waas slipping through the door. He looked to be around her age, and he entered hesitantly, glancing around for a second in curiosity before fixing on the large menu covering most of the wall behind her. His eyes widened, and she had the sudden striking impression of a lost deer. The boy’s dark hair almost seemed to gather the sun pouring through the window. She peered at him with a little more interest than she gave most of her customers; it wasn’t often she came across someone she didn’t know in this town. He looked like he could be a dryad, with that willowy slenderness they carried, and the delicate set of his cheekbones and chin wouldn’t look out of place at the dryad-exclusive modeling company across town.

  
The boy shuffled closer to the counter, looking uncertain and staring up at the menu. Rory spoke up, unable to bear the complete look of confusion crossing his face, however doe-like and adorable it made him look. “Do you drink coffee much?”

  
He started, like he hadn’t noticed her before, and gave her a small grin. “Not really. I mean, my mom makes it for herself, but my dad doesn't like it and I’ve never had it. I’m more of a tea person.”

  
Rory turned to the menu herself. “We’ve got tea, too,” she pointed out, gesturing to the shorter section near the bottom. She looked back in time to see him throw her an actual smile, shy but bright.

  
“I’m feeling adventurous today. What would you recommend?”

  
Rory scrutinized him; she prided herself on knowing what drinks fit what customers, and he looked like an easy Cold Brewed Francisco, with his neat dark hair, hazel eyes, tall, thin build, and a demeanor that toed the line between meek and shy. But if he hadn’t had coffee before, that would definitely be too bitter. She’d have to build him up to it. Maybe a Foaming Mocha? Yes, she thought, meeting his eyes and noticing that, though the confused stare had disappeared, they were still naturally large and round. Maybe he was a naiad, not a dryad? Either way, a Foaming Mocha would be a good fit, and she suggested it.

  
He just shrugged. “I guess. Mochas have chocolate, right?”

  
“Yep. This one is chocolate, caramel, and a dash of vanilla. Does that sound good?”

  
His eyes lit up and he nodded, an eager look coming onto his face. She hid a smile as she busied herself with entering the order into the cash register, but she could still feel his eyes on her. “That’ll be 3.60,” she said, reaching out for his credit card. He was close enough now that she was able to smell the slightest trace of salt around him, and when she looked down to take his card, she noticed the webbing between his fingers. “Oh. Not a naiad. You’re a selkie, right?” There weren't too many of those in Greenriver, and those that were here were often more reclusive than the other inhabitants. No wonder she hadn’t recognized him.

  
He nodded. “My father.” The previous friendliness in his voice gave way to slight wariness, a tone that, while not defensive or outright off-putting, indicated that it wasn’t something he wanted to go into detail about. Rory swiped his card and handed it back, feeling the coolness that radiated from his hands as he took it from her. “I don’t know how you survive in this town, then,” she remarked. “We’re nowhere near the ocean.”

  
The grin he gave her this time thinned the corners of his mouth and didn’t quite meet his eyes. “It’s hard,” he agreed softly, but offered nothing else. Rory, feeling like she’d overstepped somewhere with the comment, got busy making his drink while he retreated to a table to wait. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him peering around the shop, just as all new customers invariably did.

  
She supposed curiosity was well-deserved; to someone who hadn’t been there before, the coffee shop would certainly be interesting even if it hadn’t appeared out of nowhere. Plants of all sizes and shapes grew in sunlight-flooded nooks and crannies and hung from the ceiling to cascade in waterfalls of white and pink and blue flowers. A shelf stuffed with books ranged across the far wall that faced the door. Many of the books were not in English, but the ancient language of magic. Rory only knew of two or three customers that could read those, all dragon-descendants. The large floor-to-ceiling window let in bright sunlight, which pooled over the dark oak floorboards and transformed the pinewood tables and chairs into golden amber and dark honey.

  
At times small balls of colorful light darted out of the flowers, chasing each other and emitting soft chimes that might be a language, but no one had been able to translate it so far. Rory didn’t think even the owners of the place knew exactly what they were. In fact, the owners often seemed as confounded as the rest of the town at most things surrounding the coffee shop, but, like everyone else in Greenriver, they took it in stride and reassured people with, “At least it’s not the weirdest thing that could happen here.” No one could argue with that.

  
The scent of clean linen and coffee and pastries drifted lazily through the air. All in all, the ambience was homey and one of the most inviting in town, even if everyone was still a bit at a loss as to where the shop had come from in the first place.

  
The boy tripped over a vine trailing along the ground as he approached the counter to retrieve his drink, but he just laughed. There was a look of wonder in his face as he glanced around the shop again. Rory watched the boy with a smile. “Do you like it?”

  
He jumped and took a hasty sip of his drink. His eyes widened; she wondered if selkies did that often, or if the coffee had just been hot. She didn't know too many selkies, or their sons. Maybe this boy was just easily surprised. “Oh!” He took a second to stare at the cup, surprise pitching his voice higher. “It’s really good!” He flashed her another of those bright shy grins; she found herself relieved that whatever tension her comment had caused earlier was apparently gone. Rory let her smile grow. She hadn’t been talking about the coffee, but if it meant she was rewarded with a smile that beautiful, she didn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of a series I'm starting, mostly in the aim of figuring out the plot and themes of the longer story I'm planning. The series will consist of short related scenes featuring an ensemble of characters as I discover who and what aspects of the town I want to focus on.


End file.
